Tuesday night, for the Museum of Modern Art’s annual Party in the Garden, he opted for something a little more melodious. For most of the 45 or so minutes that he’d been onstage, Mr. West had been moody, dour, even irritated at points, a star who enthralled even at low wattage.
After a roaring take on “Runaway,” during which he pounded away at his MPC, he began addressing, well, everyone. “Thank you for loving me when they told you not to love me,” he half-sang, through an Auto-Tune-like effect, rendering him an emotional cyborg. “I’m sorry about anybody out there that had to fight for me,” he sang. “Do you know what it feels like to be hated, do you know what it feels like to be degraded?” There was more, about his alleged racism, about branding and marketing, about his late mother: “I know she’s smiling down.”
Tuesday night, for the Museum of Modern Art’s annual Party in the Garden, he opted for something a little more melodious. For most of the 45 or so minutes that he’d been onstage, Mr. West had been moody, dour, even irritated at points, a star who enthralled even at low wattage.
After a roaring take on “Runaway,” during which he pounded away at his MPC, he began addressing, well, everyone. “Thank you for loving me when they told you not to love me,” he half-sang, through an Auto-Tune-like effect, rendering him an emotional cyborg. “I’m sorry about anybody out there that had to fight for me,” he sang. “Do you know what it feels like to be hated, do you know what it feels like to be degraded?” There was more, about his alleged racism, about branding and marketing, about his late mother: “I know she’s smiling down.”
Tuesday night, for the Museum of Modern Art’s annual Party in the Garden, he opted for something a little more melodious. For most of the 45 or so minutes that he’d been onstage, Mr. West had been moody, dour, even irritated at points, a star who enthralled even at low wattage.
After a roaring take on “Runaway,” during which he pounded away at his MPC, he began addressing, well, everyone. “Thank you for loving me when they told you not to love me,” he half-sang, through an Auto-Tune-like effect, rendering him an emotional cyborg. “I’m sorry about anybody out there that had to fight for me,” he sang. “Do you know what it feels like to be hated, do you know what it feels like to be degraded?” There was more, about his alleged racism, about branding and marketing, about his late mother: “I know she’s smiling down.”
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